Tag Archives: life

Bedside Reading…


Is this a problem?

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Your Friends Know You Better

Funny, odd, touching chat with an old and dear friend….


how are you?
 me:  today good.  Overall, pent up ambition of 20 years trying to fit through the small nozzle of what can be done….
friend:  have you ever seen a sea horse penis?
 me:  ?? auto correct damn you?
are you getting fresh with me?
Friend:  i imagine your flow is something like that
 me:  oh…
that is a touching and icky compliment
LOL- later- I think he meant cuz the male carries the eggs…  and is “impregnated” by the female…
"Two sea horses mating"

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Plunging Rules (Life Observation Series)

Being a minor or XX chromosome-d seems to impede developing the life skill of plunging.

A low flush toilet (Gerber Toilets, I’m looking at you), that requires five flushes for every #2 is a pile of shit.

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5 a.m. Kitchen Observations

1) People in my household, including me, seem to think that the last 10-20% of a jar of jam is both priceless and inedible.

2) The people who make yummy jam and then put it into an octagonal or other non-circular vessel are secretly sadists who enjoy watching people try madly to get that last bit of yummy jam out of the corners.

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Morning Safari

Particularly good observation, I think:

Virginia, this morning, I spy from the corner of my eye; V is hunting in the wild tupperware drawer. She self-narrates: “The female of the species stares at the drawer, hoping a wayward lid will meander to its (bottom) mate. Finding them near by makes her job easier. No luck.” She paused, taut. Her hand darted out fast as a cheetah. She had her prey.

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Frank Vilanova Comas, 1926-2010

This is the obituary for my late father. I re-posted it here with the correct paragraph breaks.

Frank Vilanova Comas, born Francisco Comas i Vilanova, passed away peacefully surrounded by his loving family on Monday, March 22, at home.  He was a research and clinical physician in Oak Ridge and Knoxville ending his career as the Director of Radiation Oncology at UT Hospital in 1994.  At that time, his colleagues initiated the “Frank Comas Annual Cancer Oration” to honor his “relentless pursuit” of medical excellence and his “wit and wisdom” in driving his fellow dedicated colleagues.

He was born on February 16, 1926 in Barcelona, Spain, to Josefa Vilanova i Montiu and Francisco Comas i Durall.  He grew up with his sisters, Rosa and Pepa (Josefa), during a time of tumult that included the Spanish Civil War.  He enjoyed music, sports, and spending time with his uncle, Pelayo, on their farm in Premía D’Ált.

After entering the pre-medical university program at the University of Barcelona, he endured a terrible accident that would shape his whole life for better and for worse.  On March 13, 1945 he lost both legs in a traffic accident on the streets of Barcelona.  Continue reading


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My Day with Delta in the Snow-pocalypse

It is 8:30 pm.

My day, in short.

Up at 5:00.  Shower and pack.

5:40.  Drive to airport and communicate with Jeff and Laura about how to get Frank’s Car.

8:40- Arrive Detroit.
Noon Flight is canceled.

I am put on a 2 pm flight.

It is delayed.
It has a gate change.
It has another gate change.

I check in to get my boarding pass.  Ticket agent swipes me twice.  Then says “You are already on the plane.”  I think this an odd comment, buy hey, everyone is frazzled.   More on this later.

Another delay.

We board just as I am reading the news about how all Interstates in East and southern PA are closed. I-80 (mine) is almost impassable.

As it turns out, my boarding pass says I am Jenny Warren.  She is a nice horse trainer from Wisconsin.  Her boarding pass says Jenny Warren.  The ticket agent took my old boarding pass when she gave me this one.  I never checked to see if it had my name on it.

Ticket agent comes on board and says we are over critical weight and we have to fly with 49/50 passengers.  He has to kick off someone.  WTF?  Shouldn’t a commercial plane be over-engineered to carry the weight of 50 really, really fat or dense people???  He asks where “Jodii Cromaz” is.  I realize it is me.  He is thinking about kicking me off but I point out I had a confirmed boarding pass which the other ticketing agent took when she performed a technical though not anatomical sex change and made me the very nice Jenny Warren.  Who is sitting next to me.  His swift weight-conscious judgment falls on the last stand-by passenger.  He gets booted.  The stewardess starts complaining about how she is on the 7th day of her rotation.

We fly.  All seems fine.

We start descending into AVP airport.  It is very bumpy.  No visibility out the side windows.  Swirling wind and snow.  Plane feels like it is accelerating and decelerating several times.  Woman across the aisle says she can see the ground at 300 ft.  I can too, but in patches.  Stewardess looks like she is trying to look calm.

Pilot comes on and says he cannot land.

We are going to Syracuse, NY- 20 minutes away.

We land.  A huddle between stewardess, pilot, and local gate agent.  We will call him John.  John comes on the PA and says that they are looking into things.

I start texting frantically.

John comes back on and says we can not go back to AVP.  The conditions will not improve in short term.  So, since there are fewer hotel rooms than us, and Syracuse is smaller than Knoxville’s airport, our best option is to fly back to DETROIT.  Ugh.  He says it is too dangerous to take ground transport to AVP.  He says if any of us do anything that makes the plane stay in Syracuse for more than 60 minutes the flight crew will be beyond it’s legal maximum for working hours and something vague and menacing will happen.

We deplane so we can pee and they bring us sandwiches.

I call a hotel and car company thanks to some quick texting and googling on Mike and Virginia’s part.

I ask the other gate agent (not John) if I can get my carry on bag.  I explain to her that I am not Jenny Warner, but that I am Jordi and I am getting off the plane.

I’ll crash here and drive down to Scranton tomorrow, get my car (Bernie), and then Bernie and I will put out our hands in the fine people of PennDOT and their big snow plows to go home on I-80.

Which is how I ended up writing you this email from a Holiday Inn in Syracuse while I wait for some steak tacos to be delivered.


Filed under humor, life, Uncategorized, writing

Knoxville Shooting (TVUUC) Hits Close to Home

Busy, weird day yesterday as the church targeted in Knoxville is my Mother’s church and church I grew up in.

She did not see it because she was shielded by the organ.  She is shook up , of course, but is being resilient as is whole congregation. They are cleaning up today and are already mobilizing to support each other.

One of the fallen was a friend of my Mom’s.  Greg McKendry was on the church finance committee and was always around the building figuring out how to save money.  He used to be a purchasiing agent before retiring, and brought that frugality to the church.  I’m sure it was appreciated.  He was a loving person who had recently become the foster father to a teen ager who had bee bouncing around in the foster system.

Monday news:  Shooter apparently blamed “liberal movement” for his woes.  That is why he targeted TVUUC, a church active in civil rights for African-Americans, Central Americans (part of sanctuary movement), and LGBT.
Seven principles of UU faith:

There are seven principles which Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote:

  • The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
  • Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
  • Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
  • A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
  • The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
  • The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
  • Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.


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Don’t do what I did- Beta

I have this running joke about how I made life difficult for myself while doing my PhD.

I call it the “DOn’t Do What I Did” brochure.  I mentioned this line today to a research acquaintance and he thought I meant- “Don’t Study what I study.”  So, in an act of reassuring him I am not so egotistical, i produced the beta version of the brochure:

Also, I made a joking reference to “don’t do what I did.” I think you misunderstood me. Life is too short and being a scholar is too important to get worried about turf wars. I welcome our mutual and complimentary interests. I have a running joke about how I am the poster child for how not to do a dissertation.

  • – Don’t do it across an ocean.
  • – Don’t use a method you never studied
  • – Don’t do mixed method.
  • – Don’t have kid(s).
  • – Don’t teach FT while dissertating.

And so on…

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This is so cool…

Here is a picture of the robes I get to wear as a PhD from IESE/Universidad de Navarra:

Toga y Birrete

Lovely.  The secret of academics is we like to dress up in these poofy things.  And the odder, the better.

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